


Illogical

by LadyoftheWoods



Series: Sanders Sides [20]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, emotional boys, logan dealing with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22616122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods
Summary: Logan deals with having emotions. Remus helps. Lots of fluff!
Series: Sanders Sides [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1594594
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	Illogical

He was running through the darkness. He was throwing open doors, searching, searching, but it was empty, the mindscape was completely empty. Wrong, something was wrong, something was terribly wrong. 

He slammed open a door, floor squelching under his feet. He looked down, seeing green ooze, and he knew what that meant. 

“Remus!” He shouted, light suddenly flaring to life in the room. 

There he was. The others squeezed tightly in his tentacles, so tight they could barely breathe. Sparking light traveled up and down their lengths, causing the others to shudder. Virgil was struggling weakly, his eyeshadow was darker than ever, running down his face. Deceit had a tentacle covering his mouth so he couldn’t speak. The others were all unconscious. That’s not what caught his gaze.

It was Remus’s face. His eyes were blazing green, but his nails were digging into his arms as he hugged himself, his face twisted in pain, in fear, in desperation. 

“please, make it stop, make it stop, I can’t make it stop, I don’t wanna, I don’t wanna do this.” He was muttering, over and over, as the tentacles squeezed tighter and he heard cracking noises, making him flinch. 

“You don’t have to. I can help. Just listen to my voice, Remus. Copy my breathing. In-” Remus shook his head, trembling. 

“Nononono I don’t want to, I don’t, I can’t, I CANT!” He screamed, the tentacles flailed, and there were more sickening cracks of bone against solid surfaces, he saw blood splattering across walls, bodies flying through the air, landing haphazardly. He ignored them. 

“It’s ok. Remus, it is going to be ok.” He came closer to Remus, reaching out a hand, knowing if he could just get to him, he could help. 

“No it isn’t.” Then a flash of green and the world went dark. 

Logan jerked awake, nearly falling out of bed. His heart was racing and he breathed slowly in through his nose, out through his mouth until he felt the palpitations settle. With a sigh, he reached for his glasses, rubbing them on his shirt before settling them on his face, straightening them once. He considered getting dressed, but looking at the clock decided it was too early for that. His black sweat pants and dark blue pajama top would do for now. Not like anyone else was up, anyways. He did pull on his sweater over his shirt, he was always cold in the morning. 

He carefully picked up the book he’d been reading from his bedside table, it was an old one, one of his favorites, one of the first Thomas had ever read. It wasn’t particularly challenging, and he honestly could recite it from memory, but he supposed it was Patton’s influence that made him nostalgic every once in a while. He supposed it was a comfort, to read something so familiar. Studies did show that repeatedly watching or reading something to the point of memorization brought calmness, as you knew what was going to happen next, and when. Unlike life. Unlike Feelings.

Ugh, feelings. Feelings were, as his flashcards would say, the worst. They were messy and complicated and unable to be sorted and dissected and placed into tiny boxes in the very back of the closet, where Logan would like to shove them all until they were forgotten. But that was impossible. 

Much like Thomas himself, Logan was out of the closet, in his case, when it came to his emotions. Everyone had already known he wasn’t the machine he sometimes pretended to be, but it was different having said it out loud, having admitted it himself, to himself, to everyone else.

Because now he had to actually address them. And he had absolutely no idea how to do that. How to express what he felt inside, how to translate that into actions and words. As much as he had listened to Patton talk, somehow he hadn’t learned a thing, hadn’t picked up on the words necessary to vocalize his feelings, found them impossible to categorize and describe, infuriating, really. He hated not understanding things almost worse than he hated not knowing things. 

He wasn’t a huge fan of the nightmares, either, but that was not necessarily something new. He was often the first one up. The others just thought it was because of his meticulous sleep schedule, which was true some days, most days, even. But not today.

He exited his room with a soft sigh, closing the door quietly behind him, walking softly down the hall to the living room, nearly tiptoeing to avoid waking the others. He passed through the living room, into the kitchen, blinking owlishly as he realized, contrary to his belief, he was not the first one awake. 

“Heya testicle specticals, howdy do?” He simply blinked again as his still asleep mind tried to process any of what those words meant when combined together in a sentence. After a moment he gave up, moving to the coffee maker, setting his book down on the table so as to avoid the possibility of getting it dirty with coffee stains or water damage as he prepped the coffee, grumbling something that could maybe pass for a greeting. 

“Oooohhh, Alice in Wonderland? Did your sciency books get too boring? Are you ditching the logic theme and changing into something else? How about Insanity? How fun would that be?” Logan made a noncommittal noise, muttering something about Lewis Carol being a master of literature and the book having complex symbolism, but his heart wasn’t in it. 

Behind his back Remus frowned, fidgeting restlessly with his fingers, cracking his knuckles, dislocating the bones and popping them back into place. The pain was delicious, and grounding, and not permanently damaging, which was something Milo insisted on, since he knew Remus couldn’t help it, sometimes. 

“What’s got your dick all in a twist this morning? Why are you up this early, anyway? I thought you were all about equilsleeprium, or whatever.” He expected the mispronunciation to spur Logan into a correction, into a lecture. But instead he got another mumbled response as the smell of coffee slowly filled the room. He watched as Logan poured it into a mug that Virgil had gifted him. It was Logan’s favorite, a deep blue gradient, with the Yerkes-Dodson curve hand painted on it. 

He unceremoniously dumped three heaping spoonfuls of sugar and three creamer cups into the coffee before mixing it, setting it down on the table, before falling into a chair with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. 

Yikes. Logan was not in a good mood. Usually he drank his coffee black, and the more he added to it, the less alright he was feeling. With that amount it was not good. 

“LoLo? You know I love watching all of you squirm, but only when I’m the one causing it.” Remus asked, more nervously now, twisting his fingers backwards, pulling them so they lay flat against the back of his hand, barely aware of the pain. 

“Apologies. I am… not myself, this morning. I suppose recent events have affected me more than I realized.” Logan replied, absently stirring his coffee. 

“I seemed to have experienced a rather less than ideal dream because of the added stress of the past week. Usually I am able to shake these off rather quickly, but it seems today I am not at my best.” He explained after a moment, taking a sip. 

“Couldn’t be worse than mine. What was it about?” Remus asked, eyes glittering as he leaned forwards, rapt attention on Logan. What did logic dream of? What went through that little head when all the functions shut down and his brain went wild?

“You.” Logan replied dismally, stirring his coffee again. 

Remus’s face froze, his heart dropped like a stone, his eyes flashed with raw, barely concealed hurt, an agony that rushed from the tips of his toes to the tops of his ears, but he covered it up quickly with his manic façade. Logan had had a nightmare about him, and here he was, plaguing him with his presence, getting in his space, when he was probably the last person on earth Logan wanted to see. He had chucked a ninja star at his head, had tried to kill him at least three times in his intro video, and he hadn’t thought Logan was afraid of him, not after everything, but he was tired and probably didn’t want Remus to be a bother.

“Oh. I’ll go then, shall I? I have some experiments to check on, Mitzy doesn’t like to be left unattended.” He stood, but something in his voice must have given him away, some break or tremble, because suddenly Logan was standing, too, grabbing his arm before he could sink out, pulling away from the contact just as quickly as he’d initialized it. 

“No, that’s not… I apologize. I should have phrased that better, given your somewhat turbulent history with the group. You were not the antagonist in the nightmare. It was quite literally the opposite of that scenario, actually.” The pain in 

Remus’s eyes flashed into Logan’s mind again, the desperation as he tried to stop himself, unable to, overwhelmed and consumed by his own intrusive thoughts, torn apart by his own self loathing. 

“The others were present, of course, and they were… suffering. But you were the one who truly needed aid, and I failed to give it in time. And I know it is irrational, I know it was not real, I know dreams don’t translate to reality, for me, anyways, I suppose you and Roman are special cases, but I still feel the need to apologize. And to assure you that if there is ever anything… wrong… my door is open to you.” Remus stared at Logan, jaw literally dropping to the floor, after a long moment springing back to its correct position and clicking back into place. 

“I… um…what?” Logan sighed, slumping back into his seat. 

“I know I may not be your favorite, but unlike Roman, it did occur to me that you, too, probably suffered from intrusive thoughts, being the literal representation of them. You are the representation of much more, of course, that just happens to be one of the many things you embody. The strategies I used to figuratively dress you down were not only meant to help Thomas. I intended for them to help you, as well. I see now that you had not considered that possibility. And I know you find it hard to believe, sometimes, but as I was previously forced to admit, I do care for everyone. That includes you, Remus. I do not and never have seen you as “scary” or “the bad guy”. You are simply an aspect of Thomas like the rest of us, and I have never held your job or who you are against you.” 

Remus was, unusually, impossibly, speechless. This was the kind of speech he’d expect from Patton, definitely, maaaybe Roman, though they had more of an unspoken understanding at this point, but not Logan, this was too emotionally charged for Logan. 

And while he did appreciate the words, while they did make his insides buzz like a swarm of bees climbing their way up his esaphaugous, he did not like this dour, melancholy mood on Logan. Hesitantly, he sat back down at the table, unsure what to say, just sure that he didn’t want to leave Logan alone in this state, that he wouldn’t, not after he’d just said all of that, not sure how to make it anything other than worse. 

“Where is this coming from, teach? Even… even before… you’ve always been the most tolerant of me, even when everyone else was terrified of me, and hated me, you were   
just indifferent. You were the first to accept me hanging around, when Virg invited you over for games. If anyone needs to apologize the least, it’s you.” Remus said, voice surprisingly soft, surprisingly intense. 

“I don’t know! I just… it’s all… there’s too… much.” He finished weakly, gesturing at his head. Well. Remus could understand that sentiment. “There’s just too much going on sometimes, and I haven’t gotten enough sleep, and I don’t understand how to handle or constructively deal with all of my… feelings, and it’s not my job, but I do worry about everyone, but I can’t verbalize it so it all just sits there until I’m not sure if I’m about to literally or figuratively explode!” Logan replied, getting steadily louder, until he finished, hands clasped tightly together in his lap. A beat of silence. Remus opened his mouth to say something. 

Then Logan burst into tears. 

Not the quiet, soft tears Remus had seen the side shed a rare time or two. These were shoulder shaking sobs, that wrenched at his heart, tore at his lungs, that overwhelmed you with the impossibility of ever stopping them. 

Remus made a small noise, of surprise or distress, Logan couldn’t tell, he could barely hear it over the noise of his own muffled cries, one hand pressed against his mouth as if that could keep them in. 

“Logan. Is it ok if I hug you?” Remus asked, surprising Logan with his restraint, controlling his impulse to just do and instead ask for consent. He was surprisingly sensitive, when he wanted to be. Logan just nodded, face burning red at his emotional outburst, already hating himself for it as Remus’s arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. He pressed his face against the silkiness of Remus’s shirt, hands squeezing tight to the back of his outfit, feeling Remus gently swaying back and forth. 

“You wanna go back to your room?” Logan nodded again, he could only imagine the distress it would cause Patton, the worry it would cause Virgil, the fear it would cause Roman if they found him in this state. He just wanted to hide until it passed, he should have known better than to go downstairs anyway, should have seen this coming with the mood he was in. 

“No, no, no. None of that, now. You’re the one who told Patton repression was bad. That counts for feelings as well as thoughts, and you know it. They wouldn’t think any less of you. I don’t think any less of you.” Logan realized he must have voiced his thoughts aloud without realizing, and that only made his face burn more. 

“I’m logic. I’m supposed to be clear headed. I’m supposed to be unbiased. I’m supposed to not care.” He whispered, feeling Remus pull away, tugging him down to sit on the bed. 

“You’re Logan. You’re supposed to reason and work out solutions to problems, and see the big picture, and make sure Thomas doesn’t act like an ignorant slut, as fun as that would be. Not feeling things is a requirement for exactly none of those jobs, Logan.” Remus rebuffed, and Logan froze, mind stalling as he mulled over Remus’s words. 

Not a requirement… but he’d always thought… but it was easier if… but none of those required…

“Oh no. How do I initiate a reboot? Did I crash the software? Did Logan.exe stop functioning? If I punch the computer will it turn back on?!” Remus asked in false panic, snapping Logan to his senses. 

“Were you not the one just arguing against my self conceived notion of being a computer like entity?” he asked, but a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips, the tears slowing to a stop. “Also how would a punch help an actual computer function faster? Would that not just damage the screen and or internal mechanisms?”

“Seeeee, there’s that pesky ol logic, getting in the way of some good ol jokes again.” Remus complained dramatically, flopping back on the bed. “Feeling better?” 

“I… believe so, yes. I… thank you, Remus.” He smiled as he felt Logan lay down next to him, a bit more carefully than his own casual flop. “And I did mean it, downstairs. If you are ever feeling overwhelmed yourself, or just need to say whatever pops into your head, you can come to me. Even if you just don’t want to be alone, if you just need someone to listen. I will. You know it doesn’t bother me, like it does the others.” Remus hummed, a soft noise of contemplation. 

“You know I liked you the best when I first met all of you? You’re interesting, Logan. You’re so smart. And you listen. Not even Dee actually listens. But you do, and you correct me when something I imagine isn’t accurate, even if its disgusting or morbid, and you never judge me for it and you never wish I was more like Roman and you answer all my questions no matter how gruesome they are. I love Roman and Dee and Virg and even Patton, even though he’s still scared of me, sometimes. Even though they all are, sometimes. But you never are. You’re never scared of me or what I say or what I think or what I do and it’s so amazing because I don’t want to be scary, I just can’t help what I do. You’re my favorite, Logan. And my room might not be as constructive as yours, but if you ever need to talk, if you ever need to be heard, need to be listened to, need to let off steam, my room is always, always open. I like it when you talk. I like it when you go on lecturing about psycology or astronomy or some other ology. It’s interesting. You’re interesting. You make the voices stop, the noises in my head get quieter, I could listen and listen and listen until I died and my ears started to decay and maggots crawled inside of me and crows pecked out my eyes.” Remus replied, surprised as Logan rolled over and hugged him around his waist, his glasses crooked and smudged, his eyes still watery and face tear streaked, but he was smiling, a soft, small smile that made Remus smile too, because he’d caused that, he’d fixed something. 

Logan sat up with a sigh, taking off his glasses and placing them on the nightstand, running a hand through his hair, which made Remus giggle as it stuck up haphazardly. Logan huffed. 

“Reading always helps me calm down and refocus. If you like, I can read aloud, or you can simply read along too…” He trailed off as Remus nodded so fast he looked like a bobble head. Another small smile quirked Logan’s lips. 

“Alright.” He leaned back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Remus, and summoned Alice in Wonderland to his hand, opening to the bookmarked page, starting to read.

“I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!” 

And as Logan continued to read, his voice growing slightly more animated, smiling as he reached favorite passages or quotes, stopping to explain their meaning or symbolism, Remus listened closely, enraptured, and realized something. 

For once, for once, for once, the clamoring in his head was nearly almost silent.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, here's the first fluff piece, yaay! Expect more trash man fluff in the future :)


End file.
